Beautiful
by Ruler of Dice
Summary: They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. No one knows this more than him. He lives for making things beautiful, for making creations that will take away the breath of anyone that looks at them. And this kid has potential. Another one falls to Jeff the Killer.


**Author's Note: Hello, I am Ruler of Dice. While looking through this site I noticed a distinct lack of Jeff the Killer fanfics. So I decided to make one of my own. This may be my first fic, but I don't want you reviewers to go easy on me. Please, point out any mistakes that I made. If you have any good tips that will better me as a writer, then feel free to share. Just no flames. Only polite reviews will be accepted. I hope you enjoy.**

**Warnings: Violence, Slight Language, and Scary Subject Matter. If you are under 13 years old, or if you're uncomfortable with any of those things, I do not suggest you read this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jeff the Killer. I only own this story and the OC character.**

Jeff watched from the shadows of the Nightmare World. Hidden in terrors, stalking his prey like a lion in the Sahara. Wide, demented eyes unblinking as his victim typed away on his computer. He would have smiled right then, if one hadn't have already been carved into his bleached white face. The teenager was so blissfully unaware of his presence. Unaware of the danger that was lurking right in the corner of his eye. Said danger finally made his move and at 12:42 am, the nightmare began.

It started with a whisper, so quiet that you could barely hear it, "Go to sleep..."

The brunette teen jumped and turned away from the moniter, his panicked eyes started scouring the room. "Who's there?" All he received for an answer was the wind howling at the window. A relieved sigh escaped him, then he turned back to his computer. "I've been reading too many damn creepy pastas..." One click and the nightmare fuel was gone.

But that didn't stop his paranoia, because he could've sworn he heard it again, only louder, "Go to sleep..."

He decided right then and there that sleep was the absolute _last_ thing he was going to do. Maybe he was just hearing things, maybe not. Either way, he wasn't taking the chance. So with shaking hands he opened a new tab on his browser. Some funny videos would ease his mind.

Or maybe not, because the power decided to go out. He felt his heart thumping in his chest. Nervous sweat was starting to appear on his forehead. He took a few shaky breaths, trying to sooth his nerves so that he could come up with a logical explanation. A power surge seemed to be a good theory, so he stuck to it. "Nothin' freaky going on," He mumbled to himself, "The power'll come on soon..."

White flickered across his peripheral vision. With a yelp he quickly turned his head, trying to get another glimpse of what he thought he saw. Nothing greeted his gaze, and his anxiety only grew. "Calm down... Take deep breaths..."

With a hand over his still rapidly beating heart, he followed his own advice. After a couple minutes he decided to close his eyes. A kid could only run on fear-fueled adrenaline for so long before they crash, after all. Ten minutes of on-and-off slumber, then he opened his eyes and was greeted by a horrific sight.

Standing right in front of him was a man. No, that can't be right. The thing standing in front of him couldn't be a person. No one normal looked like _that_. Alabaster skin, hair darker than night... But the most terrifying aspects of him were his eyes and his grin. Two dead pools of ebony stared into his soul, showing promise of eternal damnation. Directly beneath, for the being didn't appear to have a nose, was a grotesque smile, literally reaching from ear to ear. It extended past the bondaries of normalicy, showing off teeth, gums, and insanity. A knife was clutched in his left hand, and the teen was scared for his life.

Jeff watched in psychotic amusement as his victim stared at him. He could practically see every thought flickering through. They were the same as all of his other victims, yet it never ceased to entertain him. He slowly raised his weapon, moonlight glinting ominously off the sharpened blade. His prey snapped out of his deer-in-the-headlights stuppor and tried making a mad dash for the door. With a swift kick to his stomach the teen was stopped, now sprawled on his back.

The killer took one step toward the quivering mass, torturing him with slow, calculated movements. He could see fear and anticipation well up in the brunette's eyes, making this game even more enjoyable than it was before. The hunter stilled his movements and watched his prey. The teen's chest was moving rapidly with his breaths, his eyes flickering around, looking for some way to escape.

"You should have gone to sleep," Jeff's raspy voice rang out. "You wouldn't have felt what's about to happen if you had."

Blue eyes widened in fear, and the owner of those eyes barely managed to sputter, "W-What are you going t-to do?"

Jeff crouched down in front of the boy, balancing on the balls of his feet. He rested his right elbow on his knee and raised his other arm so that his knife was pressed against the adolescent's cheek. With a tilt of his head he whispered, excitement lacing his voice, "I'm going to make you beautiful. Like me." Then the knife dug sharply into soft flesh, splitting the skin and letting out little waterfalls of crimson blood.

Screams of pain were released from the youth, but Jeff knew that there was joy behind it. Who wouldn't want to be beautiful? On that thought, he brought his knife to kid's other cheek, ready to repeat the process. The dead-eyed man was shaking with excitement. This was his favourite part. He viewed his vicims as works of art in the making, beauty ready to be revealed to the world.

Out of his hand flew the knife, and he suddenly found himself on his back. Slender hands were wrapped around his neck, squeezing tightly, and stopping oxygen from reaching his lungs. So his prey was a fighter? Somehow it made things even better. He easily pushed the teen off of him and reclaimed his knife. He stared at the boy. The boy stared at him. Jeff's permanent grin seemed to stretch wider, if it were possible.

The fighter was now frozen in terror. He knew that there wasn't hope left for him. He tried everything he could, with no results whatsoever. Death was imminent, but he feared the pain more than anything else. That one slice to his cheek hurt more than anything he had felt before. Who knows what else this lunatic would do to him? But there was nothing he could do to stop it. So with a sigh of defeat, he closed his eyes, and resigned himself to his fate.

Jeff would admit that he was a little disappointed that his prey gave up. At least it made his job easier. He brought his knife to the other's untainted cheek. A quick push, another cry of pain, and his masterpiece was completed. The eerie smile that was on his his own face was now etched into his victim. He stared in amazement while the teen trembled.

Why? Why him? What did this average teen do to deserve this? Nothing, he did absolutely nothing. He _didn't_ deserve this pain. Defiant eyes gazed at the killer, steeled to hide his emotions. He may have been as good as dead, but he wasn't going to grant the other a victory by screaming, crying, or begging. Teenage rebellion built up inside him, giving him the courage to stare horror in the eyes. He was _not_ backing down.

Amused was the best way to describe Jeff's mindset right now. This one was persistant, which was fun because he liked playing with his victims. Toys waiting to be broken, and art ready to be made from the pieces. The defiant youth wasn't broken enough yet. He'd have to fix that.

He lifted the scrawny kid up by his shoulder, earning a grunt of discomfort. Then he pulled the youth into the bathroom, grabbed hold of his hair, and forced him to stare at his own reflection. The sliced grin almost made the two of them look like brothers. Perfect. That's exactly what he wanted, what he _needed_ for his plan to work. Just a few more agonizing minutes and everything would come to fruition.

Meanwhile, the brunette just stared at the mirror, not getting what the point was supposed to be. After a while he started go become paranoid. What was the sicko going to do? How long is he going to have to wait in this awful suspense? Horrendous images flew through his head. Severed limbs belonging to victims of the past. Bones stripped of their flesh. Walls painted in scarlet. And every corpse had one similarity: the soul-crushing grin that adorned his own face.

His mind shattered. Those images were more than his fragile psyche could handle. Once vibrant eyes became just as dull and listless as his tormentor's. Skin that used to be a healthy pigment became deathly pale. A ghoul stared back at him from the mirror.

"You are _beautiful_..." Jeff whispered, eyeing his new creation. He didn't receive a reply, but that was okay. His masterpiece was going to be immortalized anyway. He held his knife firmly in his hand, brought his arm around the teen's neck, and rested the knife against his throat. He quickly ended the adolescent's life, and watched as vibrant red ran down.

He then left without another word, disappearing back into the Nigntmare Realm with practiced ease. He would take a small break, then scour the world for someone else to slaughter.

Who will be Jeff the Killer's next work of art?


End file.
